Two forthcoming weekend expeditions are now off the agenda. I’ve sadly decided not to go to London on Friday, so I can use the weekend to chill out and take things easy in the run-up to a hectic fortnight of travels for work, while I will no longer be in Glasgow the weekend after.
Coupled with a cancelled trip this week, it gives me a bit more time to catch up with myself. And at such a busy time of year, and with the commercial festival known as Christmas looming over the cold, neon-lit horizon, that’s a welcome thing.
How often do we get caught up in the often completely mental Christmas hype that actually has nothing to do with the substantive reason for the day? Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Christ – nothing more.
Not to say that Jesus entering the world was an insignificant event, of course. It’s probably the biggest event of the last two thousand years (albeit with Lost season 4 this coming February a close second). It’s just that the significance of that birth has been lost, sadly, in the cacophony of messages that tell us that we obviously don’t love our friends and family if we don’t splash out enough cash on presents for them.
Sorry to sound like a grumpy old man. I do like a lot about Christmas – it’s just it’s so draining when the run-up to it is longer, louder and more irrelevant as each year goes by.